A Small Victory
by Scandalacious Intentions
Summary: "Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley…"


**Disclaimer: Whatever I said last Saturday, I was lying. 'I am J.K. Rowling, come and dance with me' was not just a chat-up line, but a **_**bad**_** chat-up line.**

**A/N: I know this has been done to death but I really wanted to write this so hell, I'm going to.**

"_Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley…_" Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_,_ page 448.

Lupin couldn't help but think that the young man occupying the opposite bed looked very much like him; though he had not yet acquired scars. His sallow skin stretched taught against his cheekbones. Presumably, thought Lupin, he didn't smile for fear of ripping it.

"Who the hell are you?"

Lupin's eyebrows shot up and hid behind his fringe. "I beg your pardon?"

The young man sat up sharply. "This isn't a fucking freak show."

Lupin licked his dry lips and shifted his weight. His right arm snaked around his neck and massaged it as he attempted a smile.

"My friend," he said, nodding toward Mr. Weasley, "said that he'd spoken to you in the week."

The young man laughed bitterly. "I don't need your pity."

"I don't think you need pity from me. I think you need advice."

"I don't understand."

Lupin smiled grimly. "He said that he mentioned a Lycanthropic friend of his. That would be me."

"Oh."

Lupin nodded, his lips pressed together.

"I'm Orestes."

Lupin blinked. "Really?"

Orestes merely looked at him. "No," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "my real name is Petal."

Lupin offered him a rare genuine smile. "I used to know an Orestes. I thought it was a strange coincidence."

Orestes shrugged. "Can't help you, mate. I've never seen you before in my life."

Lupin shook his head. "No, I didn't think you had. I'm Remus, by the way. Remus Lupin."

Orestes laughed. "What? Do they give you a new name after you've been bitten? Like a sort of wolf christening?"

Lupin frowned. "No. Just another of those strange coincidences."

"When were you bitten then?"

Lupin swallowed hard. "Twenty-eight years ago."

Orestes let out a low whistle. "You can't be that old."

"I was six."

Silence reigned for quite some time while Orestes processed this information. He seemed to be totaling the years and did the usual double-take at Lupin's haggard appearance. The idea that the man before him was a mere thirty-four years old seemed to horrify him.

"What happened to you?"

Lupin averted his eyes. "I didn't come to talk about me."

The werewolf sighed and swung his legs out from beneath the blankets. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Lupin licked his dry lips. "What did you used to do?"

"When I had a life, you mean?" Orestes sighed. "I was…still am, as yet, a member of the Werewolf Capture Unit."

Lupin winced. "I suppose it's an occupational hazard. What happened?" Wondering whether he would tell a complete stranger about Greyback, Lupin hurriedly backtracked. "You don't have to tell me. I was…. I'm sorry."

Orestes smirked. "If you're this uncomfortable, why did you come here?"

Lupin's eyes shot up to meet his. "I know how it feels to be on your own at Christmas. It's not the suicidal thing people make it out to be, but it's certainly unpleasant, isn't it?"

Orestes only nodded.

"_Are_ you alone? Do you have a family or some friends?"

Orestes raised his eyebrows. "_Friends_? Who's going to want to come near me? I'm a fucking werewolf. Bastard bit the living shit out of me. Look." He pulled down the neck of his hospital gown and presented a long line of jaw marks that traveled from just beneath the lobe of his left ear and along his shoulder. "My friends brought me here. They haven't come back."

Lupin smiled grimly. "May I sit?"

"Well, it doesn't look like anyone else is going to, does it? Go ahead."

Lupin perched gingerly on the edge of the visitor's chair and desperately wished for a cigarette. It had been six years and he didn't miss smoking per se, but it gave him something to do with his hands and a reason for the awkward silences. Taking long drags gave him time to think about what he was about to say. Now that he thought about it, his tongue seemed to get him into a lot stickier situations since he'd knocked the habit.

"I got like this, you know," said Lupin quietly. "It didn't quite begin the same way. My mother and father made sure that I was loved. That was the reason they never had the other two children they'd planned. Neither of them wanted me to think they were trying for a child who could be normal. I didn't know that at the time, of course. I was able to go to school and I made friends and they discovered my secret, but they stuck by me and they didn't ever treat me any differently. Now I'm surrounded by friends, I have a very interesting and I suppose what some people might call thrilling, job and I don't know how I've managed it, but I also know an incredibly beautiful young woman who for some bizarre reason, actually _enjoys_ my babbling when I take her out. What I want to say is that your life will get better. It might seem now like nothing will ever be the same and everything's gone to hell in a hand-basket, but it's just a disease. It might hurt you, but it's not lethal and what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." He smiled sadly. "I know that first hand."

Orestes leaned forward. "So what happened?"

"Well, one of those friends was murdered and one was _thought _to have been murdered and the last was arrested for his connection to both. So then it was just me and Dolores Umbridge's laws. I'm unashamed to admit that on more than one occasion, I cried myself to sleep thinking I was never going to get a job because of the laws that had been passed and I was never going to know love or happiness." He frowned slightly as his darkest brown eyes bore into those of Orestes. "I see a lot of that belief in you. I'd just like to say that that belief in me led me down a path I wished I had never embarked upon; one that I couldn't get off. I could only keep walking until I reached the end. From personal experience, don't walk that road. If you do, make sure you have an escaped convict at the ready when you get off it. They make everything better and can really help you put your life in perspective. Maybe get an Azkaban pen pal."

Orestes glared. "I'm sorry. Is this funny to you?"

"Not in the slightest." Lupin blinked. "In fact, it may surprise you to know I'm deadly serious. I'm going to go now. I think maybe you don't want me here."

He got to his feet, offered the werewolf a fleeting grim smile and made for Arthur's bed.

"That's not true."

His voice was quiet but it was painfully obvious that solitude was something this patient had come to fear. Remembering the loneliness of those long, cold Halloween nights, Lupin returned to his seat without a word.

"I'm going to be practical," he said, worried that if he did not say something, silence would swallow him up. "After which, you can ask me any questions you like and I'll do my utmost to answer them." He took a deep breath and licked his dry lips. "All right, have the Healers registered you yet?"

Orestes shook his head. "I'd forgotten-"

"Don't worry," said Lupin softly. "I've been registered for years and I've never had the slightest trouble. Besides, it's confidential. No-one can just stroll on up and have a little browse. It's just to stop cruelty and make sure laws are abided. It's idiots like Greyback screwing it up for the rest of us. Don't worry about registering and for Merlin's sake, don't try to avoid it. It just looks bad."

Orestes nodded, saying nothing.

"Do you have anything you want to ask me or have the Healers gone over everything? I don't know the procedure. Everything was left to my father."

Orestes remained silent and a slight crease appeared between his gold eyes. "How much does it hurt?" he said quietly.

Lupin winced and wondered to what extent he could tell a half-truth. "That depends," he said eventually. "It varies from person to person. For me, it hurts. Of course, it hurts anybody but it's relative. I've spent my life teaching - mostly, because of the lovely Miss Umbridge's laws, in the Muggle world - so it hurts rather a lot. You chase down werewolves for a living. You're probably used to a lot more pain than I am so your tolerance of it will be very different indeed."

Orestes nodded slowly. "I see. I've been wondering about that for a few days now." He smiled grimly. "Thank you."

Lupin took his as his dismissal and got to his feet. "I'd like to come tomorrow. Would you mind?"

Orestes stared long and hard into Lupin's tired but twinkling eyes. "I don't think you're the sort of person who'd really care if I gave my permission or not."

Lupin grinned back. "No, but I like to keep up appearances."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Lupin nodded and offered an encouraging smile. "Merry Christmas."

Orestes visibly deflated. "Oh yeah. It's Christmas Day. You too then."

* * *

><p>"Good morning."<p>

The young werewolf seemed positively chipper this morning. He beamed at Lupin, who was caught somewhat off guard.

"How are you feeling?"

Orestes grinned. "Okay."

Lupin took his seat and looked around the ward. A pale and slightly confused Arthur Weasley was smiling at him, no doubt wondering why the man who should have been his visitor had decided to sit elsewhere. An elderly gentleman sat on a bed in the far corner, his pulsating hand taking on a greenish hue. A small child sniffled and risked glances at his leg every few minutes. Orestes, bitten by an aggravated, cornered and petrified werewolf, was by far the worst case on the ward and yet he and the Cheshire Cat bore twin smiles.

"My friends came," he said, beaming with pleasure. "Last night. They said they hadn't liked to come before in case I was in a bit of a state. They even brought me presents."

Lupin almost breathed a sigh of relief. This would be a lot easier if his newfound acquaintance had a steady grounding in society.

"You're probably going to get a visit very shortly," Lupin warned him. "No doubt, in your line of work, you've heard of Fenrir Greyback and his ideals?" When the other werewolf nodded, Lupin winced. "Yes. Well, he'll be wanting you to join his pack. If he offered you the chance, would you go?"

Orestes frowned. "You didn't?"

"I was six. The decision was out of my hands."

"Do you ever look back and wonder what it would have been like?"

Lupin shook his head. "I know that my parents did the right thing. I know that I am who I am because of them, because of my schooling and the friends I met there. I would be a very different man if my father had shipped me off to be a part of Greyback's society and that's the crux of the matter. Ultimately, no matter what anyone says, every _day_ you are a man. You are a human being. Every twenty-eighth night, you're what people call a monster. If you can afford a Wolfsbane potion, you are only a monster if you want to be. Greyback _wants_ to be. I don't. So no. No, I don't look back and wonder what my life would have been like."

Orestes nodded and bit his lip. "What's the other option then? I know how werewolves are treated. I know what their prospects are. So what do you do?"

Lupin thought about this for a moment. "Can I trust you?"

"Well, I'd say 'Yes' even if you couldn't," said Orestes, who Lupin was quickly learning did not mince his words. "_Especially_ if you couldn't, in fact."

"Touché," Lupin replied with a half smile. "I work for an illegal organisation. I'm a mole."

"A were-mole? Do you only spy once a month?"

Lupin threw him a reproachful glance. "I happen to be rather good at my job. I'd rather be in a classroom sitting in front of a pile of paperwork, but this is the path I'm walking down at this moment and it leads me to places I would never have imagined. While I won't say I _enjoy_ my job, I enjoy the opportunities it's presented to me. I've met people who have changed my life. I want that for you too. I faced my fear head on when I was eighteen and it was the best thing I ever did. I want you to bear all this in mind."

A slight crease appeared in Orestes' forehead. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't understand you. I can usually read people pretty well. That's one of the reasons I'm the spy. I can't read you. I don't know what you're thinking. I don't know whether you're dangerous."

Orestes laughed. "Aren't we all dangerous? Everyone is, surely - werewolf or not."

Lupin froze. "Be very careful. I heard someone else use almost those exact words and he later went on to become the most dehumanised example of vermin I have ever known." He shrugged, his face impassive. "What happens to you now is nothing to do with me. That's your business."

Orestes peered shrewdly at his visitor. "Are you spying for Greyback?"

"That," said Lupin coolly, "is _not_ your business."

Orestes almost blushed. His opal blue eyes downcast, he said, "If you're not, then you're Dumbledore's man. Caught between a rock and a hard place, I'm not sure that I should say _anything_."

Lupin nodded. "I understand, really I do. I just want you to know that should everything go to hell in that hand-basket, you can find me in Islington. You will probably lose your job. I sincerely hope you don't lose your friends, but _if_ you do, see me before you see Greyback. I'll help you in every way I know how."

Orestes laughed bitterly. "How can I go to you for help when I don't know what that help is?"

Lupin smiled warmly. "You'll just have to trust me."

Orestes raised his eyebrows. "I think that's the first time I have ever heard a man say 'Trust me, I'm a spy'."

Lupin laughed lightly and got to his feet. "Well, good luck."

Orestes nodded. "Thanks."

As Lupin took a seat beside Mr. Weasley, he smiled genuinely. He may not have converted the young man to their cause, but a neutral werewolf was still a werewolf not indoctrinated into fighting for Greyback's ideals.

Albeit a small one, it was a victory nonetheless.


End file.
